


Office Party

by vix_spes



Series: Christmas Gift!Fics 2013 [9]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Christmas, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the MI6 Christmas party and everybody is betting on who 006 and 007 are going to ensnare under the mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Office Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [margi_lynn (majoline)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/majoline/gifts).



It was an acknowledged fact that, if you were in the country for the MI6 Christmas party then you attended. It was just one of those things; you didn’t miss it unless you were absolutely unable to get back or you were dead. Field agents had been known to ignore going to medical or even discharge themselves from medical in order to attend. One year, M had even been asked to defend just how much MI6 spent on the annual party. She had responded that her people worked phenomenally hard and gave everything they had for Queen and country, the least she thought they deserved was a bit of a party at Christmas. Suffice to say, she hadn’t been questioned about it again.  
  
Each of the departments based at the headquarters in Vauxhall had a specific task to take care of. Technical services took care of decorating (with copious amounts of mistletoe), catering obviously did the food while the alcohol provision fell under the remit of finance. Considering how much they drank – all of the double-0’s had iron-clad livers – it was the job of Q-branch and R&D to create a new alcoholic concoction for the celebrations. If that failed, and you were in amongst the favoured few, Alec Trevelyan could always be counted upon to have a secret stash of high quality, high proof Russian vodka.  
  
This year, as well as all of the staff from Vauxhall, almost the entire double-0 division was in attendance. The only ones who were missing were 003 and 005, both of whom were on long-term infiltration missions. The arrival of the twin gods of chaos, 006 and 007, prompted a flurry of excitement. From his spot by the bar, Q noted an increase in people making a point to speak to Tanner who was running the book as usual. The book in question was a tradition whenever Trevelyan or Bond put in an appearance.  Tanner ran a book collecting people’s bets on who would manage to get either agent under the mistletoe. Q watched with interest, listening to the names being thrown around with interest before turning his attention back to his drink. Q had his own theories of course, mostly for 006, but if he added to the book he was fairly certain that Tanner’s fable unwavering control would be thrown.  
  
“Quartermaster.”  
  
Turning his head, Q saw Bond lounging against the bar with a glass of scotch in hand.  
  
“Bond. I take it from yours and Trevelyan’s presence not to mention the fact that I haven’t had an irate phone call from the Iranian authorities that your mission was a success?”  
  
“Do we, _do I,_ ever disappoint Q?”  
  
A faint smile curved Q’s lips at the flirtatious tone and words laden with double-meaning; something that had characterised all of his interactions with Bond since their first meeting.  
  
“Professionally no, you’ve never disappointed. I can’t comment on anything else.”  
  
“Well, we’ll have to rectify that won’t we?” With those words, Bond was moving away in the direction of Mallory, his fingers trailing over Q’s hip.

  
(~*~)

  
Three hours later, the party was still going strong. A few brave souls, well-oiled by alcohol, had taken up residence on the makeshift dance floor while a few of the braver Q-branch minions had kidnapped several field agents including several double-0 agents to play drinking games. Moneypenny, still as put together as at the start of the day, was flitting around moving from group to group and flirting with all and sundry but with Bond in particular. Moneypenny’s interest in Bond was well-known yet, while he flirted with her, Bond showed very little interest in taking things any further than flirtation. Still, Q would be willing to bet that the majority of people had placed money on the fact that it would be Moneypenny who would succeed in dragging Bond under the mistletoe. Q was far from convinced, particularly seeing as Bon appeared to have been doing his level best to avoid her, spending most of the evening either sat in the corner drinking with Alec or flirting with Q.  
  
Not that Q had any complaints. He was well aware of how attractive – and intelligent – Bond was and he was perfectly happy to be flirted with. Not somebody who was too bothered by gender, Q was more than happy to flirt back. After all, it was just harmless flirtation; nothing was going to come of it.  
  
It was bang on midnight, when the party was starting to wind down or at least move somewhere other than MI6 headquarters, that the ear-splitting whoops and cheers began. It didn’t take long for Q to find the source, a grin crossing his face as he locked onto the couple in a clinch under the mistletoe. Judging by the moans and groans accompanying the jeers and wolf-whistles, Q was the only one who had seen this couple coming and would have made a killing on the book. Contrary to popular opinion, rather than one of the short-skirted, big-boobed members of the admin department, Trevelyan had swept Bill Tanner under the mistletoe. Considering that this was obviously turning out to be a rather lengthy snog rather than a cheeky peck and that the Chief of Staff wasn’t pushing Alec away and was in fact responding quite enthusiastically, Q was assuming that the attraction was mutual. Deciding to call it an evening, Q drained his drink and turned to leave, only to run into the brick wall that was James Bond’s chest.  
  
“Leaving already Quartermaster?”  
  
“Yes, I believe I’ve made a sufficiently long enough appearance and some of us are expected in the office first thing in the morning. Why? Was there something you wanted?”  
  
That infuriating smirk spread across Bond’s lips; the one that had Q torn between wanting to slap the man or kiss him.  
  
“Yes, there is as a matter of fact. You’re standing under the mistletoe; you owe me a kiss.”  
  
As Bond spoke, a well-muscled arm slid around Q’s waist, drawing him in impossibly closer to the older man. Q barely had time to draw in a breath before Bond’s lips were upon his. The uproar created by this kiss was even louder than for Tanner and 006; apparently people had been betting upon Moneypenny snaring Bond under the mistletoe rather than the Quartermaster. Dimly, Q could hear the cheers of some of the Q-branch minions who had obviously bet on their boss. Bond didn’t seem inclined to end the kiss, if anything he kept pulling Q closer until there was no space between them.  
  
Bond pulled away momentarily and Q wanted to question him, to question this but Bond was leaning back in, claiming his lips again and Q didn’t really care to question any of it. Instead, he slid his arms around Bond’s neck, fingers sliding up to tug at the short blond strands at the nape of Bond’s neck. The action earned him a growl of appreciation as Bond licked hungrily into Q’s mouth. There was no doubt that Bond knew exactly what he was doing as he did something with his tongue that had Q going distinctly weak at the knees. He was also unashamed to admit that he whimpered when Bond finally pulled back.  
  
“Permission to show you that I _never_ disappoint. _Sir.”_  
  
Bond’s usage of that last word, not to mention the tone, went straight to Q’s cock and there was no way that he was going to refuse.  
  
“Permission granted 007.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on LJ, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.livejournal.com/150751.html)


End file.
